Grasmoor direct

Saturday 28th September 2013

I have wanted to do this climb for a long time, in fact ever since I first read Wainwright’s Pictorial Guide to the North Western Fells. Wainwright’s description of the direct ascent of Grasmoor was intriguingly tempting as he wrote that it was “on the whole … probably less difficult than the North Wall of the Eiger.” The western face of Grasmoor is certainly imposing and is a formidable object overlooking Lanthwaite and the northern end of Crummock Water. Every time I’ve planned to tackle the ascent weather has kept getting in my way. I tried to climb Grasmoor direct on the day of Will & Kate’s wedding in 2011, but eventually I used a different route to climb Grasmoor due to high winds, and then this year I chickened out once again due to snow and strong winds, so when good weather, one of the last really good days of the year, appeared I grabbed the opportunity to finally achieve my long-held desire of climbing Grasmoor direct.

I got up very early and drove for four hours to the Lake District, parking near Lanthwaite Green Farm at the foot of the steep western slopes of Grasmoor. The weather was perfect; after all my previous failed attempts I had just the right weather for the climb with hardly a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind. A short walk up rising slopes through bracken brought me to a steep scree run that was frustratingly slippery due to the severity of the gradient so I was greatly relieved when I finally managed to reach the top of the scree and climb through a rock gateway up a grassy rake that led me to a terrace where I could finally have a rest and contemplate my progress and the views. Wainwright mentions a ‘fat man’s agony’ at this point, a narrow squeeze between two splintered rocks, but the worn way now avoids the splintered rocks by simply scrambling up the rocks to the left, and the fat man’s agony is seemingly no longer in use (so maybe the ascent would be less painful for Wainwright now).

An all-too-short scramble up a shallow arête led me to a pinnacle where there seemed to be many alternative routes but I was determined to take the most challenging along the very edge of the arête, which brought to mind something I’d recently read in 'The Great Outdoors' magazine about solo walking. The article was treating solo walking as something ‘you must try’ as if most people would never do it, but I have always solo walked right from the beginning, and so I don’t consider it as dangerous. But as I was scrambling up the arête I realised that no one knew I where I was, I hadn’t told anyone I was going to the Lake District, only that I was going for a walk. If I’d slipped off that arête I’d have really had problems as I’d still not seen anyone all day and it would be another 24 hours before I was going to be missed, and even then they wouldn’t have known where to look.

After this cheery thought I reached the pinnacle from where I could see that I still had some way to go along a rough curving ridge that leads up to Grasmoor End, the prominent terminus of the Grasmoor summit plateau. From this vantage point I had fantastic views towards Buttermere and the Scafell Pikes on the horizon, and also across Lorton Vale to Loweswater. I had been in the shade throughout the climb, but now I was bathed in glorious sunshine on this wonderful day with views all around. After absorbing the view I walked across the grass and moss of the summit plateau to the top of Grasmoor from where I crossed the plateau to the northern edge and the awe-inspiring Dove Crags. It would be great if there was a walk up those crags but the best that Wainwright had to offer was around the edge so I would have to be content now to walk along the top and slowly descend straight down to Coledale Hause with Grisedale Pike ahead of me and Skiddaw looming large on the horizon.

I enjoyed the path down to Coledale Hause as it is little used and delightfully rough, but it soon leads onto the well-used path across Coledale Hause. I had been aiming for Grisedale Pike, but on a sudden whim I headed up the steep slopes of Sand Hill, simply because I’d never climbed them before. From there I soon reached the popular path that skirts around the top of Hobcarton Crag near Hopegill Head where I turned right around the top of the crags and all the way to the top of Grisedale Pike. There were fantastic views from the top so I sat on the side the hill and had my lunch while trying keep away from the crowds at the summit. I returned back along the fantastic terrain at the top of Hobcarton Crags to Hopegill Head where I veered north off the main ridge and down a steep, narrow ridge that leads excitingly to Ladyside Pike. I had visited this fell just once before in 2005, but now I returned in much better weather, not for the sake of Ladyside Pike, but for the craggy ridge that leads to it from Hopegill Head.

It was exciting to scramble down the steep crags to the Notch, and even more exciting on the return when the winds seemed to have picked up and provoked more caution, until eventually I returned safely to Hopegill Head. With the great weather continuing I proceeded along the narrow, rocky ridge that leads from Hopegill Head to Whiteside, which I had started to walk along last Easter and was turned back by strong winds, but I had no such problem this time and easily reached Whiteside, my final fell of the year. While sitting on the side of the fell I gazed out across the Cumbrian coastal plain towards Scotland and contemplated the fact that this was undoubtedly my last mountain walk of the year, so I reflected on the last nine months. This has been a rather nostalgic year for me as I returned repeatedly to the Lake District reliving great ascents that I’d remembered from the past without really going anywhere new all year, not even in Scotland. Next year I will have to visit some new areas, but I can’t forget about the Lake District. Despite returning frequently this year I’m not tired of the place and instead I am just as desperate to return. It seems the more times I go, the more times I want to come back.

As much as I loved the climb of Grasmoor it was ultimately disappointing as it didn’t last long enough to be truly satisfying. It was too easy; the description by Wainwright made me think it was going to be hard, but it was nowhere near as difficult as the North Wall of the Eiger. I suppose after all that hype it could never live up to it. After the climb I had a glorious stroll through the North Western Fells, but there’s no hiding the fact that the whole day had been about one climb that was over by half-ten which left me with almost a whole day to fill, albeit in glorious weather. After my long contemplations at Whiteside I decided that I didn’t want to descend by the same route that I’d taken at Easter so I descended north from the east top down knee-crushing heather slopes to Dodd. The end of the walk was marred by a horribly steep descent through heather off the end of Dodd, but once I was on the fell-wall path I had a pleasant walk back to my car at Lanthwaite Green.